All Because of Mistletoe
by Lea Ootori
Summary: Donald Davenport doesn't like Christmas. No, not at all. Gaining weight, boring movies, lawn ornament competitions- they don't sti well with Donald. Not to mention the dreaded *relatives*. There's nothing Donald likes about Christmas, but maybe his mind can be changed by his wife and some mistletoe. ;D *Secret Santa Gift for EmeraldTulip!*


**Hey there! For any of you guys who haven't heard, I've been doing a Secret Santa with my friend Stardust16! We paired around 20 writers up with eachother and had everyone writer a 1-5 chapter story for their Secret Santee- it's been so much fun! The day of posting is finally upon us, and this is the fanfic I've written for my Secret Santee- EmeraldTulip!**

 **EmeraldTulip, I have to say that you are an outragously funny person with an open heart and hoenst work ethic- you are the best beta reader for Amnesia I could ever ask for and you make an AWESOME reader-reviewer as well! I hope you enjoy the story and that I can at least START paying you back for all you've done for me! *internet hug***

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 _"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Y-"_

 _Click._ Donald turned the TV off with a sigh. Christmas Carols and noise and sweets that would only serve to make him fat- Christmas was _definitely_ not his favorite time of year.

It wasn't that Donald was a Grinch- it was just that any other singing than his own really, _really_ annoyed him. And the fact that people were constantly trying to outdo his lawn ornaments. Which was not acceptable, because Donald Davenport _always_ had the best lawn ornaments, and he always would.

Tasha would try to cook (and sometimes set off the smoke alarms) and the kids were constantly hinting at what they wanted for Christmas (which their wants were usually quite expensive) and if he got them what they wanted, they would thank him by nearly bringing his house to the ground with the gifts.

And that wasn't even an exaggeration.

Not to mention that there was nothing good on TV, other than the occasional mention of the upcoming Super Bowl, and instead it was filled with holiday films that the family had seen hundreds of times- _A Charlie Brown Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Home Alone,_ and many other movies that Donald had no interest in watching whatsoever- he wanted action and sci-fi and guns and zombie-pigs and intergalactic wars, not a bunch of kids or green grumpy blobs or movies about mentally demented, sadistic children. None of that interested him in the slightest.

And the worst part of holidays, worse than ruined houses, fires in the kitchen, bad TV, singing other than his, spending too much money, getting fat, and sadistic children was none other than the dreaded thing that could be summarized in one dreadful word- _relatives._

And no, not just any relatives. Tasha has so many that they just decided to show up in December and try make Donald go out of his mind. _The toothpaste is cheap, don't you guys have some-movie-that-annoyed-Donald-oh-no-you-don't?-I'll-go-buy-it-at-the-highest-price-possible-with-your-money-and-order-a-bajillion-other-things-with-it, and It smells like dogs in your private-bedroom-that-I'm-not-supposed-to-go-in_ were some of the things they decided to bring up and annoy Donald to no end.

And let's not even mention dear, _dear_ Grandma Rose.

That annoying woman was so nosy that Donald wondered if it was possible to irritated to the point where he wanted to pull out his own nerves. In fact, he'd rather do that than be around her. And she was coming tomorrow.

Donald groaned as he leaned back in his chair. Knowing Rose, she'd be here 24 hours early just to irk Donald and make sure he wasn't doing anything that she deemed 'fishy' behind her back. Who knows, she might even be spying on him through the window right now.

Not that he cared. "Spy all you want, Rose." He mumbled. "I'm not doing anything weird. Or fishy. Or whatever you like to call it."

He slumped again. "Are you talking to yourself, Donald?" Tasha asked, walking into the room unexpectedly.

"No." Donald said quickly, bolting up. "I'm talking to Rose."

"My mother?" Tasha looked around, eyebrows raised. "When'd she get here?"

"She's not here yet…I think." Donald said, scratching his head. "Just never mind."

Tasha nodded, eyes narrowed. "Right." She brightened up immediately, clasping her hands together. "The kids are bringing up the boxes of decorations!" She exclaimed. "We can decorate the tree and the house together as a family!"

Donald slumped again, face tilted upward at the ceiling. _Ugh. Decorating._

Tasha frowned, hands on her hips, as she walked over with swift clicks of her heels. "Get up, Donald." She sighed, yanking at his arm. "Don't be a child." She finally dragged him up and pulled him along to the massive tree sitting in their living room (which gave him slight allergies- yet another reason to dislike the holiday) as the four kids each hauled in a box of decorations (though in Adam's case, it was three boxes) and set them in front of the tree.

As Donald sneezed consecutively for the third time, he decided that it wasn't ' _Ugh. Decorating_.' but more like ' _Ugh. Christmas_.'

 _ **~All Because of Mistletoe~**_

At first, nobody but Tasha had seemed excited about this whole decorating business. But then she'd made it a competition, like the smart woman she was. She assigned each of the kids to a section of the Christmas tree and told them that whoever decorated the best segment wouldn't have to do chores until the Super Bowl- which had quite a few fingers flying to decorate.

Adam decorated his section with garlands of overlapping popcorn- er, what used to be garlands of popcorn. As he worked, he began to eat some of the pieces, not being able to control himself from the juicy, cheesy pieces of fresh deliciousness hanging there not to be eaten. He still tried his best though, but it was hard with half of his decorations disappearing as soon as he strung them on the tree.

Bree had her own strategy. She dove in and retrieved the prettiest, fanciest decorations the Davenports owned before anyone else could even look through them. Her section of the tree was fancy, with sparkly, gaudy ribbons crisscrossed over random sections and glittery ornaments and shimmering pink tinsel covering even inch of the branches.

Chase was taking a different route than either of his siblings and instead of doing something completely original, he browsed Pinterest tree decorating ideas until he found the perfect DIY decorating manual, and proceeded to go insane lengths to get out of his chores. He was all over the house, grabbing these things and those things from the weirdest of places and putting them all together into what looked more like a Pinterest fail instead of an actual DIY project.

Poor Leo didn't even have a chance- With Bree taking pretty much everything from the box and Adam eating everything that was edible and not edible and Chase using up every craft (and non-craft) supply in the house for his own creations, he didn't have much to offer, and his section of the tree ended up pretty much bare, except for one lone ornament that Bree hadn't taken- that was actually an ornament that Leo himself had made when he was in kindergarten.

 _Of course nobody wanted my piece of art,_ Leo grumbled, glaring at this oblivious arguing siblings over whose section of the tree was better. _They don't even consider my part of the tree!_ He continued angrily, sulking on the couch as he looked at the mess of a tree.

Donald, who had wanted to participate in the tree decorating contest, (What? Donald Davenport was competitive if nothing else!) finally sulked into the living room again after hanging wreaths on all the doors like General Tasha had ordered. On arriving into his once nice-looking living room, he was encountered with a mess that made him want to cry. The tree looked like a murder victim, a fourth of it covered in half eaten popcorn garlands, another fourth in sticky, not-dry Pinterest fails, and another fourth covered in so much pink and sparkle and bling that Donald wanted to scratch his eyes out. Then there was the final, lame fourth in which only one little deformed ornament hung.

The floor was covered in paper, open scissors, tape, broken ornaments, remains of popcorn, shreds of tinsel and ribbon, and some additions of cookie crumbs. The couch had a huge splotch of glue on it, and one of the branches of the tree looked permanently attached to the wall with what looked like dried superglue.

Rolls of wrapping paper sat on the coffee table, open and not being used, but squares of it still littered the floor, including crumpled swatches that weren't big enough for whatever was being wrapped. A spilled mug of hot cocoa provided a lovely decoration for his expensive scraped hardwood, and one of the picture frames that had been on the wall was hanging at a dangerous angle. Eddie's screen had been covered by wrapping paper as well, which no doubt Tasha would appreciate.

It was a mess.

There was a sudden flash of a red laser that cut through one of the garlands of tinsel hanging from the ceiling, sending it flying to the ground.

Davenport whirled and glared at Adam. " _Adam_!" He yelled. "All of you! This is a mess! I'm definitely not cleaning this up! I expect everything to be clean by the time Rose gets here, or you'll all have extra chores until you turn thirty!"

Bree rolled her eyes. "It was all them!" She said, pointing at her brothers.

"I don't care who it was, all of you are cleaning up my beautiful house _now_ or else!"

The kids all grumbled and got to cleaning, shoulders and heads drooped. Tasha walked in, tinsel around her shoulders. "What happened? What's the yelling about?" She asked, looking everything up and down.

"It's nothi-" Donald began, only to be rudely interrupted.

"Mr. Grinch here wants to ruin our Christmas by making us clean and sentencing up to prison sentences 'til we're _thirty_!" Bree grumbled, rolling her eyes again with a huff.

"Donald!" Tasha said, lips pursed, hands on her hips yet again. "Christmas is supposed to be a fun time, you're making the kids upset! Let kids be kids, Donald! "

"But Tasha-"

"No buts, ifs, or ands."

Donald glared at his wife, and she glared back. But of course, as always, Donald couldn't hold up against the master of glares, and instead he broke his glare and plopped onto the couch. "I hate Christmas."

"Big D, you're sitting on the glue."

 _ **~All Because of Mistletoe~**_

After the painstaking job of trying to get the glue off of his favorite pants, failing, and just putting on a new pair all while his entire family was laughing at him, Donald returned to the living room, sulking even more.

Leo tried to stifle a giggle but failed, leading to everyone laughing at him again. Ignoring his family to the best of his ability, Donald walked to the kitchen, stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, which he wasn't supposed to be doing, but at the moment, he could care less.

He walked right past Tasha in the kitchen to head back towards the living room before Tasha grabbed his arm. "Donald," she said, the teasing evident in her voice. "Don't be a Grinch!"

Donald sighed, taking another bite of the cookie. "I'm not being a Grinch." He grabbed another cookie, taking a massive bite out of it and not even bothering to wipe the crumbs off his lips.

Tasha looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"I'm gonna go down to the lab for a bit," Donald said, and he began to walk away, taking another bite of the cookie and leaving just a small bit in his hand.

"Donald!" Tasha groaned, chasing after her husband.

"WAIT!" Bree yelled suddenly, stopping both adults (one of which who wasn't acting like one) in their tracks. Bree super speeded over to the couple, Dr. Martins screeching on the floor, making Donald wince with the love for his hardwood.

"Ever heard of mistletoe?" She asked, smirk on her lips.

"What about it?" Tasha ask, suspicion gracing her pretty features.

"Well… They say that the two people caught under mistletoe have to kiss…" Bree trailed off, her eyes slowly drifting upward.

Donald and Tasha both followed her gaze, to see mistletoe hung at the entrance of the kitchen. The adults blinked, the meaning seeping in.

"Bree," Donald sighed. "That's stupid." He tried to dismiss the blossoming thought that it wouldn't be so bad to get an extra kiss from Tasha.

Bree smirked again. "I don't think you'd mind very much." She grabbed her father's forearm and pulled him towards her stepmother, the couple bumping into each other awkwardly. "Go on."

"You'd think they were middle schoolers." Leo grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes. "And you stole my idea, Bree."

"As if that's ever going to work on Janelle." Chase mumbled, pretending not to notice Leo's angry expression.

Tasha smiled slyly at Donald, and leaned in just a bit. Donald sighed, brushed the cookie crumbs off his mouth, eyes drooping closed as he leaned towards her.

Their lips met, and it was almost like a dance- nothing too steamy, a closed mouth kiss, barely a peck, but a kiss all the same. Donald didn't want to move. _Maybe Christmas isn't that bad,_ he thought, as his hands found a resting place on his wife's hips. _Maybe-_

"Dear lord!" The door flew open, revealing a angry Grandmother Rose.

"Donald! What are you doing in broad daylight in front of Leo?"

Donald and Tasha broke away from each other with simultaneous gasps. _Never mind._ Donald thought. _Never mind. Christmas is-_

Tasha turned to Donald as Rose continued ranting, gracing him with a coy smile and a soft wink.

A crooked grin spread across Donald's face. _Christmas is pretty awesome,_ he thought. _Awesome indeed._

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 **Well folks, that's it for this cute little Tasha-Donald thing I've got going here. It's short and not very original, but I hope you liked it and I hope everything is in character- and I hope you enjoyed it EmeraldTulip!**

 **Please review, favorite, and follow, and check out the other Secret Santa stories in the community at the bottom of my profile! Bye!**

 **~Lea**


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